| Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). Poetry: A Magazine of Verse. 1912–22. | | | | Old Roofs | | By Louise Driscoll |
| | I I HAVE seen old roofs, | |
| Broken for winds to enter, | |
| All their secrets flown like homing birds. | |
| It seemed to me they were like broken words. | |
| They babbled, inarticulate, of men | 5 |
| Who came and went and will not come again. | |
| They were full of whispers and of shadows, | |
| Provisioned for a dream’s viaticum. | |
| These only had a voice, | |
| All, all the other roofs were dumb! | 10 |
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II Under an old roof I went one day, | |
| But there was naught to see. | |
| Singing, silken drapery | |
| Went down the hall with me. | |
| I was aware | 15 |
| Of feet upon the stair; | |
| Soft laughter and a little sound of tears, | |
| Muffled by many years. | |
| It was the roof, the broken roof, that sung. | |
| The living roofs were silent, | 20 |
| But the dead roof had a tongue! | | | | |
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